When Fate Takes a Turn
by Megga B
Summary: What if Bulma had not offered Vegeta a home? What if the saiya-jin was givin a credit card and set loose to roam the earth? chapter 5 is up!
1. A Gift

Chapter 1: A Gift  
  
"Bulma, He's evil!" Piccolo growled, fangs gleaming brilliantly in the evening sun. "He's murdered numerous amounts of innocent people and you want to welcome him into your home because you think he's cute? Are you completely insane?!"  
  
"You saw what happened to him on Namek." Gohan said quietly, keeping his eyes lowered. "How could a person not change after that?"  
  
"What happened on Namek?" Bulma asked curiously.  
  
Gohan shuddered. The topic of Vegeta's death was quickly becoming a sensitive subject with the young hybrid. The tortures he had witnessed that bastard bestow upon the proud saiya-jin prince was not something he could easily forget. In fact, he was finding the memories hard to cope with. Thankfully, Piccolo took it upon himself to do the explaining.  
  
"Vegeta was tortured to death by Frieza." He said impassively.  
  
"He died?" Bulma glanced at the saiya-jin, whose earlier hostilities had quieted, and who was now propped back against a tree, staring off into space.  
  
"Yes, and if any changes occurred they could only be for the worst."  
  
"How was he brought back?" Bulma asked her gaze still fixed upon Vegeta. Piccolo scowled.  
  
"It was nothing more than a mistake. Goku wished for everyone killed by Frieza to be wished back, and by some strange quirk of fate, Vegeta was included in that bunch."  
  
"A mistake....." Bulma repeated, her gaze softening.  
  
"Mistake or not, this is an alien planet to him!" Gohan said hoping his new approach would work. "Imagine all the trouble he could get into!"  
  
"You're right, kid." Bulma said, squaring her shoulders and putting on a welcoming mask. "He has to live somewhere."  
  
Despite Piccolo's protests, Bulma strode forward towards the saiya-jin who was still occupied with his own thoughts. When he didn't seem to notice her, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, but instead of getting the desired response of a simple glance at her, she received a startled saiya- jin, who flinched away so violently, that he tore up the patch of grass under his feet.  
  
"I-I'm sorry." She said weakly, unable to fully process this new information about the alien. "I didn't mean to frighten-"  
  
"You didn't frighten me." He growled, defensively, although Bulma could clearly see that he was slightly shaken.  
  
"Oh....well....ok. I was just, uh wondering if, uh-"  
  
"Well?! Spit it out!" He growled, apparently annoyed by her nervous stuttering. She recoiled slightly and could practically feel Gohan's and Piccolo's eyes upon them, watching in case she stepped on the infamous land mine that was his temper. She suddenly changed her intentions.  
  
"I-I was just wondering if you wanted some money for a place to stay." She could almost hear Piccolo's sigh of relief as she fished out one of her many random, unnamed, credit cards she kept with her at all times and held the plastic card out in front of him. Capsule Corp. was a flourishing empire that had uncountable amounts of credits in its name. To give this saiya-jin a credit card that was assigned to C.C.'s funds was like spending a dollar at a pop machine. He eyed her distrustfully, before snatching the card from her hand. She smiled.  
  
"Now I suggest you go buy yourself some clothes and a nice place to live and try to stay out of trouble!" She grinned and continued on while he just stared at her like she was a disgusting leach. "Earth is full of new experiences and I'm sure you can-"  
  
"Would you please SHUT THE FUCK UP!?" He roared, earning many glares from the surrounding Namekiens. "My god your voice is making my head spin! You gave me the card, now what do you want?"  
  
She looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean you gave me this credit card," he said holding up the bit of plastic. "Now you obviously want something from me."  
  
She blinked in surprise. "Uh.....consider it a gift!"  
  
Now it was his turn to blink. "A gift?"  
  
Bulma smiled, forgetting his earlier outburst. "Yeah, it's free!"  
  
He shrugged, stuffing the card into the chest plate of his armor where there was a pocket. "Whatever."  
  
"Do you know how to use it?"  
  
"Yes." He said simply.  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him in interest. "How could you possibly-"  
  
"Raditz sent all the information about this planet to our scouters before he died. From there, the information was programmed into our heads." He smirked. "How do you think I was already able to speak your pathetic language?"  
  
Bulma thought about this. Indeed, Vegeta had been able to speak English and Japanese perfectly despite the slight accent when he first came to collect the dragon balls. Now her brilliant mind was contemplating the idea of scouters as an instant translator. Hell, it could even revolutionize the world of teaching! She was startled from her thoughts when the saiya-jin ignited his ki and took off without a word leaving only a blue trail of energy in his wake. 


	2. Metal Maniac

Chapter 2: Metal Maniac  
  
Coming back to life was the most horrible and disheartening thing that had ever happened to him after his humiliating defeat on Namek. After he had clawed his way to the surface of his shallow grave, he'd been so excited that he could have jumped up and down with glee just for being alive. But then, seeing Kakarot as the super saiya-jin had made him want to crawl back into that hole again and die.  
  
Now he wished he had as he flew across the bright blue sky, in search of any cities he could stay in for the time being. All thoughts of taking over the planet had died when he realized that Kakarot was still alive after he'd felt Namek explode. Now he had to lie low until something happened. He knew that if he so much as screamed in some dumbasses face, the Z Senshi would swoop down upon him like a swarm of locusts. And although he knew those weaklings could never hurt him in any way, Kakarot would pull one off his famous 'show up when everyone's dieing routines' and thoroughly kick his ass while waving his super saiya-jin power in Vegeta's face. All the odds were against him so he would find an apartment or something, like that annoying woman said to, and lay low.  
  
He glanced at himself, sneering at his ruined armor that was quickly falling apart as he flew. Seeing the small hole on the left side of his chest plate brought back unwanted memories. He shook his head lightly to clear the sudden nausea and continued his search, sharp eyes on the lookout for any skyscrapers on the horizon.  
  
The first step in even beginning to fit into this strange society, he knew, was clothing. He would need to buy some clothes first off and continue from there. But what did people wear here? The only type of clothes he'd seen so far on this miserable planet was what the Z Senshi wore. They were always sporting those retarded orange things all the time and Vegeta truly didn't feel like dressing like one of those weaklings.  
  
Relief flowed through him when he spotted buildings to his right. Altering his course, he flew towards his desired location, slowing down as he drew near so he wouldn't draw attention to himself. Landing on a building, he crouched down to observe the humans as they went about their boring lives, oblivious to the curious saiya-jin above them. To any human's eyes, the people below Vegeta were tiny black dots that closely resembled ants. But for Vegeta's keen saiya-jin eye, he could see every single detail of each individual on the street below. And what he saw confused him.  
  
All his life, he had been surrounded by soldiers who wore armor that was at least similar to his own. But of course the humans had to make every fucking thing about them, right down to their very clothes, difficult. Every one of them donned something different from the person standing next to them. He could see punks with Mohawks and spiked leather around their necks. He could see people who wore pants two sizes to big for them that sagged down their asses and he even spotted a man dressed as a woman. He nearly fell backwards in horror. How the hell was he supposed to know what to wear when everything was so different?  
  
Jumping down from the building, he landed in a deserted ally way, scaring a few cats from their hiding places. He had decided to go shopping. Emerging from the ally in only a ragged battle suit and armor that was literally falling apart earned him many sideways glances from passing humans. He ignored them and began his search for some kind of clothing that would help him blend in.  
  
After only about a half an hour, he began to feel weary. The dragon had only healed the life threatening wounds, his shattered spine and a few organs that had been ripped apart by his broken ribs, included. But scrapes, burns and grime still covered his sore body and he knew the humans had a right to stare but it was making him feel very self-conscious. More than once, he had wiped his mouth with his forearm to see if any blood was dribbling down his chin. And to top it all off, a migraine was settling in the back of his scull.  
  
Spotting a clothing store that actually appealed to him, he ignored the pounding between his ears and entered it. Loud music was booming in the speakers above his head, only making his headache worse. The man behind the counter in the middle of the store, lifted his eyes from his magazine long enough to nod to Vegeta politely. Vegeta nodded back and continued in to the store, liking what he was seeing. An entire wall in the back was completely devoted to a display of all different kinds off shirts. Most were black and if they weren't black they were a dark blue.  
  
Vegeta suddenly realized what kind of store he was in. It was a place where all those rock enthusiasts got their clothes. He remembered when he was purging this planet that he had picked up a radio station on his scouter that was playing a song by a band called Metallica. The song was called 'Kill 'em all' and Vegeta found it very appropriate for what he was doing at the time, so he kept it on that frequency for quite a long time. He'd gotten to like many of the bands they played including Metallica, Godsmack, Pantera, Slayer, and a handful of other artists.  
  
Now he was in heaven as he darted from rack to rack, picking through each article of clothing until he found something he liked and added it to the quickly growing pile in his left arm. He found over ten shirts he liked plus seven nice pairs of jeans and a nice leather jacket. He brought the mass up to the counter, dumping it in front of the startled man at the counter who stared at it in awe.  
  
"Someone likes Metallica!" he observed as he picked through the pile, looking for the price tags to scan. "Where's all this going?"  
  
"What do you mean 'going'?" Vegeta asked, his face showing his confusion.  
  
The guy just looked at him. "You don't expect to carry all this home do you? I need your address so I can send it there."  
  
It was then Vegeta realized that he had no place to stay. Telling the man to hold the stuff for ten minutes, Vegeta shot out of the store leaving him to tell himself that he didn't get paid enough for this shit.  
  
So what do you think? Should I keep writing or should I toss it in my big ass pile of failed attempts? If you have any ideas for this story, please tell me cuz I have almost no idea where it's going! I need reviews to boast my confidence! 


	3. Check In

Chapter 3: Check In  
  
Narrowing his obsidian eyes against the wind, he finally found what he was looking for. The mere sight of the hotel spiked a rare moment of happiness as he flew towards the thing he had been hunting for, for almost too long. Any longer and the guy at the clothing store would have said 'screw this I'm going home.' Any longer and Vegeta's body would have given out completely. After landing, he stopped only for a minute to catch his breath, before stepping inside the nice hotel.  
  
At the sight of this strange new visitor, the man at the desk straitened, the pen in his hand falling to the floor in his nervous movement. Vegeta seemed to consider his surroundings before spotting the man and heading that way. He stumbled a bit, and the man's shocked expression turned into one of concern. He could clearly see that this guy had had better days.  
  
"Excuse me sir, but are you ok?"  
  
Vegeta just looked at him. If he were in any other situation, he would have exploded in the man's face, but now he had places to be and he didn't want to cause a scene that could possibly hold him up if things were to get too nasty.  
  
"I'm fine." He lied. He wasn't very good at lying and most of all he hated doing it. "I need a room. I want one away from anyone else here."  
  
The man nodded, his fingers already beginning to fly over the keyboard in front of him. He went over to a machine and waited for a minute, strumming his nails, before a card slid smoothly out a slot. "Here's you're key." He said handing the plastic to Vegeta, who decided then that he needed a wallet for all the damn cards he was given. "And you're in room...213 at the other end of the building." He smiled nervously. "Enjoy you're stay at the Grand Royal Inn!"  
  
(Thirty minutes later)  
  
Vegeta collapsed fully clothed on the huge king sized bed, his breath coming in deep pained gasps. On the way back to the store, he had had to stop to vomit sour blood and rest a bit before he could any further. He almost hadn't made it to the room before he had to throw up again and he had barely made it to the toilet. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten something. A week, maybe two ago, he wasn't sure, but he knew if he didn't eat something in the next few days, his body would start eating his ki to keep itself alive.  
  
He rolled over onto his back with much difficulty, pulling the blanket over himself. His body had started to shiver. The worse of what the dragon could not heel was taking its effect on Vegeta, mainly that monstrous bruise in the middle of his back.  
  
"Fucking Dragonballs." He whispered to himself, his arms wrapped tight around his rebelling stomach. "Can't do one god dammed thing right!"  
  
He tossed around for a bit before falling into a fretful sleep. Sleep; where the demons could get him.  
  
Scowling at the remains of Raditz's scouter on her desk top, she tried to contemplate any possible way she could make the bits and pieces work again. Her scowl deepened as she picked up a shattered microchip that used to be inside the bulky part that went over the wearer's ear. This technology was so strange to her. Even the little screen that went over the eye was made from a substance she'd never seen. Before she'd started her closer examination of the object, she had assumed the screen was made of glass. But now that she thought about it, that hypothesis was completely ignorant since just plain glass couldn't display objects like this strange mineral could. Glass wouldn't be able to handle the heat intensity that the scouter seemed capable of producing when it displayed information. The type of substance she was seeing now was closer to liquid crystal.  
  
Sighing, she lounged back in her chair, her fingers coming up to run themselves through her turquoise locks. Two whole days since Vegeta had given her the idea of a device that could teach someone a foreign language in just a few hours, and Bulma had close to nothing done. The project was frustrating her to no end. Grabbing her empty coffee cup she glanced at the clock -4:32 AM it read- and padded out the door of her lab and down the stairs. She entered the kitchen just in time to see her father pouring his own cup of coffee. He turned and smiled at his only daughter.  
  
"Good morning, princess."  
  
She smiled back, "Morning Daddy."  
  
"Any luck with that scouter?"  
  
Bulma sighed. She seemed to be sighing an awful lot lately. "No. The thing is just so.....alien! I can't even figure out how to put it back together without the original blue prints."  
  
Dr. Briefs nodded, drinking his coffee. "Is there any one on this planet that could help you with it?" There was a hint in his voice that Bulma didn't catch.  
  
"The only one who could possibly know anything about it, I don't even want to get involved with." She turned to look straight at her father. "You know he almost killed me and Krillin for our Dragonball on Namek? He's dangerous Daddy. I think its best we just keep our eyes on the tabloids and, unless something weird comes up, leave him to himself." She stared at the ceiling thoughtfully for a minute. "He was kinda cute though....."  
  
Dr. Briefs smiled to himself. He hoped to meet this Vegeta fellow Bulma talked non-stop about one day. To him, the prince sounded like a lost alien, who just needed a home and someone to care about him. The way Bulma talked about the saiya-jin, he sounded a lot like the scientist's own daughter. Arrogant, stubborn, and with an ego as big as the earth itself the pair seemed perfect for each other. The fact that he was an alien and a murderer didn't faze the old man in the least. Of course, half of Bulma's friends were some kind of thief or plunderer or murderer or alien of all different backgrounds, so to think that his daughter was attracted to Vegeta seemed almost natural. He just wished Bulma would find a man and settle down with him. Vegeta seemed like the perfect bachelor. Although, the task of getting the two together would be a difficult one. Hell, just finding the saiya-jin wouldn't be a walk in the park.  
  
Bulma noticed her father staring in to thin air, a smile placed on his lips. She smiled, dismissing the look as a sudden idea for a new invention. 'I hope he comes up with something new.' She thought as she crept back upstairs and to her room where she collapsed with a groan on her bed. 'I need something to worry about besides what that homicidal saiya-jin is doing, and a scouter that no one can figure out.' 


	4. Drunk

AN: Hey, thanx Mysterious Saiyan for the enthusiastic review! And yes ya did boast my confidence!  
  
Chapter 4: Drunk  
  
He slept for two full days before the sound of his growling stomach finally woke him up in the middle of the afternoon on the third day. Throwing off the covers, the saiya-jin noticed that the smaller of his wounds had healed completely, and the enormous bruise on his back was considerably smaller. He also noticed that he smelled pretty disgusting. He was in dire need of a shower.  
  
Getting out of bed, he limped over to the huge shower. He turned the hot water on full blast, before slipping off what remained of his armor and body suit and stepping into the burning spray. Falling to his knees, he let the water wash away all the dirt and grime and blood that were reminders of his death on Namek. It felt so good to be able to take a shower again. The last time he'd taken one had been on Namek when he'd gone to collect the Dragonballs from Frieza's ship. And of course with all his luck the bald midget and Kakarot's brat had gotten to them first. Immortality hadn't been his.  
  
He stopped and thought for a minute, his brow furrowed in confusion. Now that he thought about it, he really didn't want to be immortal. Death had felt so good. No pain, no demons, no monsters, no horrible white faces in his dreams. There was just... nothing. Blackness. And he'd had that snatched away from him, like every thing else in his life, when they had wished him back. 'Maybe...' He shook his head. No. Suicide was completely out of the question. That was as honorable a death as he had been given on Namek. Vegeta, the last prince of Vegetasei, would never drop to those cowardly standards.  
  
Without stopping to think, Vegeta started to reach for the bottle of shampoo with his tail, but remembered with a growl that he no longer had a tail. His proud tail was nothing more than a painful stump now. It had been cut off. Cut off by some fat fuck with no more than six hundred points of power. That was the most humiliating thing, to have the last link to his heritage cut off like some expendable appendage. It was enough to make him retch with disdain. He spent the rest of his shower immersed in a fantasy where he tortured that fat slob to death, grinning at the imagined screams.  
  
After stepping out of the shower and towel drying his hair, he examined himself in the mirror and was shocked to see large dark circles under his eyes. He turned around to see the bruise. It wasn't as bad as it had been but it was still very painful, a deep muscle bruise, probably. He scowled at it, before leaving the bathroom and turning to see that they had delivered his clothes while he had been asleep.  
  
He started to pick through the items, his hands shaking slightly from the lack of nutrition. He had to get something to eat. But first he had to get some clothes on. Finding a pair of jeans and a Metallica T-shirt he put them on and, after a short stop to observe himself in the mirror and to get both his cards from his armor, left the room.  
  
  
  
His stride quickened when he finally saw a restraunt over to his right. He entered it and ignoring the sign that stated 'please wait to be seated' grabbed a menu and went to seat himself. He was a prince after all. He shouldn't have to wait for anything. A waitress approached the starving saiya-jin, whipping out a notebook in the process.  
  
"Hello sir! How are you doing today?" She said, all smiles. Vegeta just grunted in acknowledgement not tearing his eyes away from the menu. She pretended not to notice. "Do you know what you want?"  
  
He continued to look at the menu for a bit before setting it down and looking up at the smiling waitress. "I want four plates of that spaghetti stuff, with about seven fried chicken legs, a lobster, a pound of crab legs, and about eight steaks, rare. Oh! And on the crab legs, hold the butter. That shit makes me want to puke." The waitress just stared at the man in front of her until Vegeta asked if she had gotten it all down. She nodded and scrambled to the kitchen to put in the order.  
  
He grinned to himself. He had always loved terrorizing the cooks on Frieza's ship with his insane orders, barking at them to hurry the hell up while they were clearly trying their hardest. It was one of the few good memories he had from his dark past. After a good forty five minutes, the food was laid before the hungry prince by ten different waiters and waitresses all panting from the weight of it.  
  
Vegeta grinned like a child, before attacking the food with all the ferocity of a saiya-jin that hadn't eaten in almost three weeks. He finished off the chicken first, considering its taste, before plowing through the spaghetti, crab legs, and the lobster leaving the steaks for last. After relishing each bite of the steaks before they were gone, the satiated prince sat back in his seat. He almost felt bloated.  
  
The waitress returned, and after marveling over the amount of food this man had just consumed, placed the bill face down on his table. "Here's you're bill, sir." She said and left quickly before the man got violent about the amount of credits practically buying the restraunt would cost him. To her surprise, while watching from her safe place behind the closed doors of the kitchen, he didn't seem to care as he picked it up to look at it. She was so confused that she took her break early to have a smoke.  
  
  
  
It was becoming late and, after paying the bill, Vegeta decided to roam around the city aimlessly he was so board. The city was a dirty place, full of an assortment of stripper bars and dark ally ways. He knew that if someone were to make the mistake of taking a shortcut down one of those ally ways on their way home one night that they would be rapped and/or mugged, then shot. And the funny thing was he didn't know how he knew it. He just... knew. Like he knew about the clothing store and the hotel. He hated it and yet he liked it. For if he hadn't known, he would have died on this horrid little mud ball. That was what the scouters did. They let you know.  
  
He decided to go down one of those very ally ways he knew about. He could hear voices. Talking, laughing, they sounded intoxicated. He smiled. Alcohol! He had known about alcohol even before the scouters influence. Soldiers on Frieza's ship drank the sour liquid often to get through each day without going completely insane, Vegeta being one of those soldiers. Beer was a common thing throughout the galaxy. Originally produced on a planet called Twafer, the natives sold the stuff out to distant planets, and apparently it had gotten to earth. It was one of the many reasons the planet was not purged. 'At least something on this miserable planet's done right.' He thought happily.  
  
He turned around and walked out of the ally and away from the voices. He would find his own alcohol. Turning East on a busy street he took in his surroundings, searching for a bar he could call worthy of his presence. He needed a drink. Bad. The strong beverage, he knew, would numb his senses, helping him forget about his predicament and the large bruise in the middle of his back, for a short time. Testing the scents of many bars, he finally found one that didn't have horney humans hanging out the front doors.  
  
It was a dingy little place, the windows were cracked and the door was practically falling off its hinges. It was a bar Vegeta could trust. He couldn't trust the newer ones that blared loud rap music and handed out condoms for free. No, he liked a nice quiet place to drink. Sitting down on a stool with a barely audible 'huff' he quietly waited for the bar tender to notice him while taking in his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the lack of people there not counting the one drunken hobo in the far corner.  
  
"What can I do ye for?" The bar tender said, while wiping clean a mug, and Vegeta took in his strange Irish accent with an annoyed snort. Damn humans made every thing so difficult.  
  
"I don't care. Anything. Something strong though."  
  
The man behind the bar nodded, like he knew the answer to some unknown question that Vegeta was oblivious to. Turning to the spigots behind him, he grabbed a shot glass and proceeded to mix a dangerous looking drink while whistling to himself. Finished, he turned slapping the glass down in front of the saiya-jin who upended it immediately. Cocking his head to one side, he considered the taste before nodding to himself.  
  
"I want that one. Give me two bottles." The bar tender stared. The guy had just drank a shot of tequila and hadn't even batted an eyelash! And the worst part was now he wanted two whole bottles of the shit! The Irishman shrugged before disappearing behind the counter and coming up a second later with two small bottles of the killer drink. He wondered if the man knew there was an even bigger bottle he could buy, if he would exchange them for those. But he didn't mention it for the customer's own safety.  
  
Vegeta grabbed the bottles before throwing a wad of cash he'd gotten from an ATM at the startled bar tender and leaving the bar. He got to where he was about a block away from the hotel before his lips were numb. He felt slaphappy and retarded as he rode the elevator up to his room taking random drinks from the second bottle. He had trouble swiping the card key through the reader and he even dropped it once but instead of getting annoyed he burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing ever. Entering the room he took a look around and squinted as his vision swam warping the furniture together until it was just one large mass of multicolored items.  
  
His ebony orbs settled themselves upon the balcony outside. After fumbling with the door handle, the severely intoxicated saiya-jin managed to get the door open and step out into the cool night his eyes scanning the stars above his head. Suddenly he didn't feel so good, as he found the familiar star constellations that would lead one to Vegetasei if they were lost. But one really was lost if they hoped to get there now. That last thought had just ruined the saiya-jin's happy buzz. Now the hangover would come, and that was all Vegeta had to look forward to now.  
  
  
  
Well there ya go people. Chapter four. Tell me what ya think! 


	5. A Look Into Vegeta's New Life

AN: I just wanted to thank everyone for the kick-ass reviews I received! I love you guys! And I want to give special thanx to Sabine and Princess Kyra for giving me ideas because I had no clue where the hell I was going with this! Guess what guys, your ideas are about to come to life in this chapter and more to come cuz I loved them! Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 5:  
  
Months passed without much incident. Vegeta became more acquainted with Earth's customs particularly Rock n' Roll, and the random fast food places that dotted his town. He'd found himself a nice little apartment in a quiet town called Stogstill, which he'd found to be conveniently already furnished, complete with a mega bass stereo system on which he blasted Metallica day and night. He'd had several complaints from the neighbors and a warning from the main office, but he ignored them, not caring that their own lives were so miserable that they wanted to make his new life miserable as well.  
  
One of these neighbors, a really sexy punk chic, who had appeared to be trying to sleep, came slamming her fist against his door one night, and after a fifteen minute long screaming match the two subconsciously decided that they were perfect for each other. They went out on several dates, if you could call drinking in the back of a rusty '67 Oldsmobile a date.  
  
Noticing, one day that he wasn't going to reach Super Saiyan if he sat on his ass all day and listened to Metallica, he began to train in his living room. One thousand one-armed push ups before taking a walk to the woods behind the apartments where he could practice his katas without destroying the entire building, was his daily routine. Every week he went grocery shopping, restocking his large freezer with huge steaks, chicken and ham. If everything else about this planet was horrible, then at least the humans knew how to eat. The food here was the best he'd ever had.  
  
He'd discovered one food that was almost irresistible; chocolate. Even if it made him sick if he ate too much, he still ate it all the time. He just kept the amounts he consumed to a minimum.  
  
  
  
Bulma stopped buying tabloids when she realized that the alien she'd set loose on her planet months before wasn't going to do anything rash. She decided that he would want to keep a low profile on a planet he had originally come to purge, and wait until Goku came back. Well he was going to be waiting a while, she guessed, since the dragon had said that he didn't want to come back yet.  
  
One thing good had happened since the whole mess started; Yamcha was brought back to life with the help of the Namekian dragonballs, and the Nameks were sent home. Life was peaceful in West City.  
  
  
  
"Are you coming?" Tish screeched through his open door, her black eyes narrowed in annoyance.  
  
"Stop your bitching, I'm coming!" Was his gruff reply as he pulled his well worn leather jacket around his shoulders before stepping out the door and locking it. He turned to her, his eyes taking in her long black pants, black hair, black eye shadow, tight black Metallica shirt, black everything. He loved it.  
  
"Ready?"  
  
"Does it look like it?" He growled. She had had the nerve to wake him up at one to go to a bar.  
  
"Hey! I'm not gonna put up with your grumpy ass today! Be nice!"  
  
"Only if you are," He said with a smirk.  
  
She also smirked before poking him in the chest. "Well you got a fat chance of that!"  
  
"I know." He gave her a wolfish grin before leaning in for a kiss which she accepted. They broke away only when they needed air.  
  
"Well. Let's go!" She said excitedly before running down the hall towards the stairwell at full speed. "Bet ya can't catch me!"  
  
"Oh I bet I can." He said going along with her little game and chasing after her. She shrieked with laughter before running down the stairs, her heavy boots slowing her down enough so that Vegeta had time to jump over the railing to the bottom of the steps, earning an amused yell from her as she turned the other way. He surprised her again by phasing out and appearing in front of her. Scooping her up, he flew out the nearest window, with Tish laughing in her delight.  
  
  
  
The bar was full to the bursting point with noisy rowdy humans and it was a wonder that Vegeta didn't bolt the moment he saw it. He didn't do to well in crowds, but he stuck by Tish's side all the same. The real thing he wasn't ready for, however, was the appearance of someone who looked extremely familiar. A tall strong looking man, dressed in an orange gi, two very noticeable scars on his face, walked in quietly and sat at the bar where he ordered a large vodka.  
  
Tish noticed Vegeta staring at the man with a curious look on his face and decided to abandon her drink for a second and ask him about it. "What's up?"  
  
From Vegeta's obscured point of view in the back of the bar, (and slightly intoxicated one) he couldn't quiet figure out where he'd seen the guy before. "That guy looks familiar."  
  
She screwed up her face in an attempt to get a better look at him. "That ugly ass guy with the ridicules looking scars on his face?" she asked pointing at the guy, who now looked like he'd had better days.  
  
"The very one," Then he grunted in surprise as recognition hit him in the face like a well aimed ki blast. "But I killed that guy. I watched as he died right in front of me."  
  
"How could you have killed him if he's sitting right there?"  
  
"...the Dragonballs." He muttered under his breath.  
  
"The what?"  
  
"The Dragonballs. I... died once and I was brought back with them. Remember? I told you all about it."  
  
She released an amused snort. "Yeah and I still think you're a nut job." He glared at her and she put her hands up in defense. "I was joking with ya! C'mon Vegeta, lighten up a little!"  
  
"And that's coming from you? Miss 'I'm queen of the underworld. Worship me and kiss my ass.'"  
  
"Now you're pushing it."  
  
"Yeah? And what are you going to do about it?" He sat back in his chair with a smirk, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
"Absolutely nothing. I love your badass attitude." She said before tackling him.  
  
At the bar, Yamcha was in the process of drowning himself in the alcohol he drank and a pool of his own misery when he heard a scuffle break out over in a corner to his left. Curious, he turned to watch as a woman was pulled off someone lying on the floor. And as the person on the floor stood up, the young fighter couldn't help but fall backwards off his stool, in shock.  
  
It was Vegeta.  
  
A/N: Guys, I am so, so sorry you had to wait so long for such a short chapter. I feel really bad about it believe me, but don't worry, updates with this one will be more fluent throughout the next year, since I have nothing better to do than write. And to all the people who reviewed and hung with me throughout this entire mess even though I might have pissed you off a little, I thank you. You guys are great! Well I would like to go to bed now. The only reason I'm up at 2:00 in the morning is because my mom had to go to the hospital at 1:00 and I couldn't sleep so I decided to finish this chapter. Until next time!  
  
Next Chapter: Vegeta and Yamcha clash... exciting. 


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